Skeletons in the Closet
by bipolar broadway baker
Summary: Peter didn't know how to trust Neal ever again after the disappearance of the Nazi treasure. How will he react when he discovers something shocking in Neal's past that may put a rift between them for life? NealxOC
1. Chapter 1

** Hey guys! This fic is a little AU, simply because after the disappearance of the Nazi treasure, Neal never received the note and genuinely has no idea where the treasure is. Sarah doesn't exist either. Sorry, but it didn't suit my story. Just about everything else is the same. This makes Peter seem more mean, but I don't think this is too OOC... maybe a little bit. But this is my first fic, so please, be gentle. :) **

** P.S. I don't own anything, and I'm not making money off this. **

** This takes place just after "Under the Radar". No spoilers for episodes after that. **

It had been 3 days. 3 days since Peter started a tail on his so-called friend. Thus far, there was absolutely nothing out of sorts with Neal's behavior, but Peter just _knew_ he was up to something. He had to be behind the explosion and the disappearance of the Nazi treasure, or at least have something to do with it. He angrily struck the dashboard of the Taurus, grunting in frustration. It was late, and Elizabeth wanted him home for dinner in about half an hour. Even she thought this was ridiculous. She supported him and loved him to no end, but she also trusted Neal, and thought her husband was wasting his time.

It was the 3rd night and he was staking out at a townhouse Neal had been frequenting since long before the treasure was taken, but Peter had trusted his young friend enough to not inquire about it until now. It didn't look suspicious at all. It was clean, beautiful and decorated with class in a wealthy neighborhood. Neal had been welcomed into the house like he was family; Someone that Peter couldn't clearly see answered the door, but he could only see a masculine hand, clean and dark brown, gently coming to rest on Neal's back as he was led into the house. It seemed innocent, but Peter always had to have his reservations with Neal. Something was up.

That was 2 hours ago and Neal still hadn't emerged. Shadows suddenly began to move in the darkness of the front window for window for a moment before the lights flickered on to reveal his partner with a large, well built African man. They both held glasses of wine, and smiled and laughed like old friends. Completely innocent good friends. But something still seemed off, something Peter couldn't quite place. He needed to ask Neal about this man. Frantically, he grabbed his camera from the passenger seat and began to take snapshots of evidence to confront his friend with: he knew Neal would deny being here tonight. Then, he stopped. He knew what was off: They were flirting.

Everything they did was charming smiles and batting eyelashes. Neither of them cared to be subtle. Peter's suspicions were confirmed when the large man walked toward Neal with new speed and purpose. He almost got out of the car: it was a little frightening to watch. The stranger easily dwarfed his friend, and his heart jumped into his throat, bouncing irregularly as the man pinned Neal to the living room wall with is strong arms and massive hands. But Neal didn't seem worried. He smiled his usual devilish grin as he wrapped his own arms around his advancing friend, pulling himself flush against the stranger. Peter snapped more pictures as the man placed his hands on the small of Neal's back and pressed their lips together passionately.

Suddenly, Peter realized how much he was intruding on, but also desperate to know more about what he had seen. He didn't care if Neal knew about the treasure anymore. Now, all he cared about was learning about the scene he captured on his camera as he pressed his Taurus into drive. He drove down the street at breakneck speed, already dialing his wife to set an extra place for dinner.

Peter practically jumped out of his car 10 minutes later, throwing open his front door in his haste to interrogate their guest, who, by the sound of it, was already in the kitchen with Elizabeth. Grabbing the camera, Peter rushed into the room with the voices, finding Mozzie and his wife chopping vegetables side by side at the counter near a raw, but soon to be delicious, pot roast.

"Hello Suit. Why such a shocked expression?" the shrewd little man greeted, pouring freshly cut celery into the pot.

"Is Neal gay?" Peter blurted out, unable to ask it with anymore tact. The room went quiet as Elizabeth and Moz turned to stare at him like he had just claimed Earth had a second moon. At least, Elizabeth was. Mozzie remained mildly shocked, but largely unreadable.

"And what could possibly make you think that, Pig?"

Peter thrust the camera into his hands, desperate for his answers. Moz looked outraged as he flipped through the digital frames on the screen. Elizabeth looked surprised and confused at the new development. When Mozzie was done with the camera, she took it and flipped back through them.

"You put a tail on Neal! You worthless fed! It's a miracle he still trusts you, after all you've done in the past few days alone! When he told me he thought someone was following him, I was hoping he was wrong, but now that it's not only true, it's someone he trusts with everything he has!"

The two men would've yelled at each other until they dropped from lack of oxygen, had Elizabeth not intervened. "Why don't we take this into the living room, and calm down. Placing blame isn't going to change the fact that something big is going on with Neal."

So they did. Peter told them everything he had learned from the townhouse, going back through the pictures of the tender touches, and then the passionate embrace. When Peter was done and out of breath, for a moment, no one spoke. Then, Peter turned to Mozzie.

"I know you aren't to happy with me, but you're Neal's best friend. Please tell me what you know."

"Exactly. I'm his best friend. So why would I turn my back on him?" He paused, contemplating, then sighed. "All I will tell you is that Neal is not gay. You'll have to ask him for the rest of your answers, I'm afraid." He didn't sound too sympathetic.

Peter didn't know what to think. He was glad Neal wasn't hiding being gay from him, but then what was he doing with that man? Was he pulling a job, and seducing his mark? Were they really together? How did they meet? What's this man's name? Where was he from? How did he know Neal?

Mozzie must've noticed Peter's crestfallen and confused expression, because he cleared his throat with a smug look, but still tried to give a bit more information without hurting Neal and Peter's fragile relationship.

"Suit," he said in a sigh, "I've never seen that man before. Just-" He paused, taking his time choosing his words " - Just don't _attack _Neal when you confront him. He won't know what to do, and he'll shut down. Why don't we all meet here again, with Neal, for dinner tomorrow night. We'll all gently tell him what we know, and ask him together. Okay?"

The Burkes' both nodded, Elizabeth eagerly and Peter sluggish at the idea of waiting. Mozzie held up his hands in finality. "And now, we get that roast in the oven, I'm starving." He announced, getting up to head for the kitchen.

Peter couldn't remember the last time he had a worse day at work. Neal had accepted their dinner invitation reluctantly, and would be there in a couple of hours. He knew something was up. It honestly was probably pretty easy to notice: Peter hadn't so much as made eye contact with his partner all day, and looked at him like he was a science experiment when he thought Neal couldn't see him. He hadn't slept at all the night before: there were just too many questions to answer. He had been functioning off a barely effective caffeine high from the 6 cups of coffee he managed to consume.

Two hours later found the Burkes' and their guests wrapped in a tense calm. Sitting at the kitchen table again, the four people exchanged the usual small talk. Everyone knew something was going to happen, but no one knew how to go about bringing it up. Neal, of course, seemed perfectly at ease, and Peter couldn't quite explain why that was bothering him so much today. The coffee? The exhaustion? Maybe that nagging feeling of betrayal, wondering why someone who said they trusted him with their life, couldn't trust him with their sexuality? That was when Peter screwed the plan. He took a long swig of his beer and cleared his throat before launching into full interrogation mode.

"So, I was checking your anklet data a few days ago, and I couldn't help but notice something strange: for the past month and a half, you've been visiting the same townhouse every night. So, because I was concerned for you and what you could've gotten into, I followed you last night-"

Neal's eyes went wide and flashed with anger. "You_ tailed_ me? That was you?"

"So you _did_ know you were being followed?"

"Yeah, of course I did, but I couldn't get a good look at the car so the friend I was visiting and I stayed away from the windows at the front of the house for a while." There was a pause. Peter looked skeptically at Neal. "What?"

"A friend?"

"Yes, a friend. Am I not allowed to have friends or something, Peter?" He spit out the name like poison. Something snapped then. The exhaustion broke him and Peter slammed the photographs from last night onto the table. He pointed an angry finger at the kiss.

"Do you do that with all your friends?"

Silence.

He regretted it the second he did it. He had never seen a more heartbreaking sight than Neal Caffrey looking that trapped and vulnerable. His eyes were wide and stung Peter with the force of his hurt at being betrayed. It was a slap to the face. Elizabeth looked scared and concerned; Mozzie was seething. There was a split second before Neal ran out of the room, and Elizabeth was off like a flash to reconcile with their friend. Moz turned his gaze to Peter before Elizabeth was barely out of the room. The FBI agent withered under the fiery gaze.

He knew losing his cool was probably the worst thing he could've done, especially with Neal, but, in a way much smaller than Neal, he felt betrayed too. Neal had made it more than clear that he didn't trust Peter. But, did Peter trust Neal? He was a conman, his painting was found at the scene of the crime of the century, he was a fantastic actor and could talk his way in or out of anything, but Peter thought he could trust with the important things, at least.

_"Like being in a relationship with another man..." _The agent waved his thoughts away, but a part of him knew it was true.

A second later, his wife was back, looking forlorn and disappointed.

"He's gone! Peter, you need to be gentle with him, you know that! I know this isn't easy for you, but you need to talk to him again. Soon. You had such a good friendship; you still do. But you need to take the first step to mend it." She draped her arms gently around him. He knew he had to do it, but this wasn't something you just apologize for. It was a start, though. But, if he was going to reach his friend, Neal would have to meet him in the middle. He needed to come to terms with this part of himself if he could tell Peter about it. There was no turning back for either of them now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again! Thank you for all of the sweet reviews and subscriptions! It's so nice to know that you guys like my little brain child :) This is chapter two, and I just really wanted to include Diana, seeing as she is one of my favorite characters. I'm still working out the kinks with writing how these characters would speak, so if they seem a little OOC, that's my excuse.**

** I own nothing. **

Neal's heart was pumping loudly in his ears by the time he reached home. Once he was safely in his apartment, he dialed a familiar number with shaking fingers.

_"Hello?"_ a smooth, deep voice calmed Neal as his voice crackled down the line. He tried to respond, only to have a small whimper escape his lips. The famous Neal Caffrey, reduced to whimpering- he mentally scoffed- what would Peter say? He flinched, trying not to think of Peter.

_"Baby, what's wrong? Are you safe? Are you okay?"_

He took a deep, shuddering breath before responding shakily.

"I need you. Please come."

He barely had to wait five minutes before he heard the urgent knock on the door. It swung open and two large arms pulled him comfortingly close as they smoothly shifted back into the apartment. Neal breathed in the calming smell of his lover and let his breathing mimic the gentle heartbeat echoing into his ears.. they just stood there for an undetermined amount of time before his guest spoke, low and smooth.

"Why'd you call me?" He asked imploringly, concern evident in his grip around Neal's body "What happened? I thought you said you were eating at your partner and his wife?"

Neal winced into Aaron's chest at the mention of Peter. He took a deep breath before looking up into the warm brown eyes with his tearful blue ones. With anyone else, he would hide his emotions. He hated letting down his walls, but Aaron was different: he had seen him at his worst and brought him back from his own personal Hell. If Peter continued to dig into this, and Neal knew he would, he would find all that Neal had tried so hard to conceal. He felt terror settle deep in his gut at the thought.

"Peter knows about us." he croaked out, and took a shuddering inhale, "he followed me last n-night, he was the tail. I'm so scared, Aaron, he won't drop this, not until he knows everything. He's just so- so _infuriating_! He betrayed me all because he couldn't handle that I'm actually innocent this time." He choked up, pleadingly looking into the eyes of the man that saved him so many times. Aaron's concerned eyes fluttered closed as he dropped a tender kiss to Neal's forehead, smoothing the hurt, angry creases there.

_"Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if Peter knew,"_ the young conman thought to himself _"I didn't do anything illegal..." _

_ "Do you want to be treated like a fragile victim? Peter wouldn't accept you. You're weak! A sickening criminal!"_ another voice echoed through his mind, ripped apart the hope that started pooling there. He buried his head back in Aaron's t-shirt, surrounding himself with the powerful love in the man's arms.

Keeping a firm grip around Neal's slim waist, Aaron led his lover to the bed in the corner, lay back, bringing Neal with him. Neal accepted quickly what was going on, and let himself be held, listening again to the deep, melodic heartbeat of his savior. They just lay there together for a long time, Neal explaining the terrors of dinner with Mozzie and the Burkes, and how frightening work would be tomorrow.

"You've faced much worse, and look where we are. You'll be fine, Baby. You're stronger than you think. Why don't you just tell him? I know how hard that would be for you, but I could be there too, fill in the rough parts? He's your partner, Angel, he cares about you."

Neal laughed bitterly. "This time last week, I would've agreed with you, but if he can't trust me I won't trust him." His voice was thick with angry tears by the time he stopped talking. He ruefully shook his head. "I should've seen this coming." A tear finally rolled down his angelic, smooth cheek. Aaron's heart broke as the man he fell in love with so long ago began crying in earnest, and pulled him closer. He stroked his dark, silky waves and whispered sweet nothings in his ear. He did this for long after Neal stopped crying, and he lay gently in his arms. He didn't stop until Neal's whimpers ceased, and his breathing evened out with sleep.

Peter was pacing, radiating guilt and anxiety. Elizabeth watched with concern from the kitchen doorway. Mozzie already left, muttering about betrayal and outing, and, after hearing the new plan, hurried out the door at the idea of being trapped in the house with more than one Fed. He thanked Elizabeth, glared at Peter, and disappeared.

There was a knock at the door.

Peter was there in a flash, yanking the door open and practically dragging their concerned, and now slightly disheveled, guest into the house.

"Calm down, Peter! Just tell me what's going on!" Agent Diana Berrigan almost pleaded. "What did Neal do? Is it the treasure? You can't keep me in the dark here, Boss. That phone call was really cryptic-"

"I think Neal might be gay."

Diana stopped, looking completely lost, before dropping heavily onto the couch.

"What?"

Peter took the pictures and showed her the kiss. Her eyes widened almost comically, her jaw dropped and she gaped for a moment.

"Wow... Peter, where did you get these? Why do you have them?"

Peter cringed before he began to tell his baffled friend about the stakeout, the townhouse, and, of course, his terrible mistake that night at dinner, which earned him a scandalized, disappointed glare.

"So, you betrayed the trust of your best friend, and yelled at him for kissing another man?" Diana's voice was blank and even, with a cold edge to it. Peter winced at the phrasing, but nodded shamefully. Diana raised an eyebrow, lips pursed, and sat back on the couch.

"What do you need me to do?"

Peter looked up, smiling hopefully at her.

"Get him to open up to you. See if you can get this guy's-" he pointed to the handsome black man "-name out of him, and what their relationship is."

"Boss, it's pretty clear what their relationship is." Diana retorted dryly, gesturing to the photos on the coffee table.

"I know how it looks, but nothing is how it appears with Neal, you know that. He could just be pulling a con, and this guy's his mark." he said, as if it was obvious.

Diana sighed. Peter was grasping at straws, trying to believe that Neal hadn't been lying all this time. She picked up a picture. It wasn't complicated, just the two men, smiling and talking happily as they sat close beside each other on the soft-looking leather sofa. Diana presented it to Peter with an air of finality after a moments' inspection, pointing to their faces.

"Look at how they look at each other, Peter. See that little spark in his eye? Neal –both of them, actually- have it. I recognize that look anywhere, because that's the look Christie gives me every time she tells me how much she loves me. You should recognize that look, because I see El look at you with this exact same spark all the time. Neal is an amazing conman, Peter, but you can't fake that look: he's in love."

**Sorry it's so short... I'll make up for that, I promise. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

** Hello! I hope you guys don't mind, I made Neal and Diana a bit closer than they are in the show. I just really like the idea of them being friends. Hopefully, this chapter is longer than the last one. It's pretty optimistic right now, but don't be fooled: I'm giving Neal a hell of a childhood. This is your warning now: IT WILL BE TRIGGER WORTHY! So, please, beware. :) Thank you! Feel free to give advice or prompts for this or a drabble/oneshot you want written! I aim to please!**

** Enjoy! I love reviews! (nice ones, that is...) **

** I own nothing. **

_His hands were shaking and tears rolled down his cheeks. The young man knew he had to get up, but his limbs couldn't hold him. Everything hurt. His brain was pounding in his skull, and he could feel the bruises throbbing as they formed all over his slim, pale body. His dark hair was mused roughly and almost covered his blue eyes, which were squeezed shut against the pain and tears. His clothes were in tatters, strewn violently across the floor of his father's bedroom. _

_ "Get up. You have to get up, before he comes back." A voice begged in his mind. "He'll do it again. He's coming back. Do you want that? Get. Up." _

_ Pushing his conscience aside, Neal heaved himself up. Stars popped across his vision, and the outlines of the room blurred into a mass. He was lightheaded, nauseous, and could feel every cut and bruise with fiery clarity. Feeling his way across the bedroom, Neal hobbled on weak, battle worn legs over to the cracked mirror on the back of the door. He met the pained, frightened blue eyes in the fragmented glass and felt the disgust and nagging hatred burn into his skin like a brand of shame. He felt his knees give out as familiar heavy footsteps slurred drunkenly down the hallway beyond. The fear took over and the ground rushed up to meet him. _

Neal woke with a gasp. A cold sweat shone on his brow, and dampened his palms and hair. Feeling the all too familiar panic, like a caged bird fluttering in his chest, he tried to bolt upright. Strong restraints bound him where he was, and he flailed desperately, kicking against the bonds. For a minute, he thought he was back in that hospital in Texas, strapped to the uncomfortable mattress, and the sterile white light burning his eyes.

Slowly, his wide eyes became aware of his surroundings: his New York apartment, with Peter and the FBI and Mozzie and Aaron. The morning sun shone brightly into the room, onto the bed, and he squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the calming heartbeat pressed to his ear, and regulating his erratic breathing and shaking bones. A voice suddenly spoke, coaxing him out of his flashback as it had since he was sixteen years old, alone and frightened. He stopped hyperventilating, his breath slowly coming back to normal, trying to swim against the current of adrenaline as he leaned into the comforting presence. He was safe here.

For just a moment, he relaxed back into Aaron. Suddenly, he remembered last night's events and betrayal. He felt hot anger bubble in his stomach at his friend. Sighing dramatically, he cracked his eyes back open, and glanced at the clock: He had fifteen minutes until work.

Diana wrung her hands together, hyper-sensitively glancing at the glass doors every few minutes. She was arguing internally, worrying for her friend who had been forced out of the closet by someone he trusted, and wondering if it was worth it to be Peter's informant. Neal still hadn't come in. He was fifteen minutes late, but she couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped her when a slightly disheveled and winded Neal Caffrey pushed through the glass doors.

Maybe she could help all of them by doing exactly what Peter asked. She could get information out of Neal, let him confide in her, and tell Peter only the things he specifically asked for. It was risky, but Diana couldn't blatantly betray Neal's trust like that; he'd had quite enough of that. She wanted to make sure Caffrey was okay anyway, so she pushed away from her desk and met Neal just as he was settled at his desk by the door.

"Hey there!" She paused, fixing him with a concerned look when she saw how pale he was and how he jumped almost imperceptibly at her greeting "Are you okay, Caffrey? You look a little pale." He looked up at her for a split second before her words registered in his mind, and he flashed her a brilliant smile.

"Good morning, Diana. I'm fine, just an off day, I guess." He was lying. It was almost impossible to tell, but she knew this conman all too well. She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, not budging until her silent demand for the truth was met. Neal tried staring her down for a minute, but gave up quickly; He could trust Diana, at least. Right?

"Fine, I'll tell you. Meet me for coffee at four?"

"If you insist," she mockingly sighed "take it easy, got it?" That got her a genuine smile and nod.

"Of course, Diana! You know me!" he said jokingly before Peter called his name, summoning him up to his office with the infamous 'two finger point'. Neal's smile slid off his face. He cleared his throat and gave Diana another smile, less convincing than the last, before heading up the steps to his handler.

Peter felt his heart racing as Neal approached him. To anyone else, the young con was acting the same as every other day, but Peter saw what was hidden: He was pale, trembling slightly, and flinched at loud noises. Did dinner last night cause all this? Was he responsible? His friend just looked so fragile, like the gentlest breeze could blow him away. He felt so guilty, but just had to know more. Neal had been acting strange lately. Like he was hiding something. That was what had led to the stakeout in the first place. But, Neal hadn't been hiding the treasure like he thought he had been. He was hoping that now that the truth was out about the man and the townhouse, Neal would be back to normal. Yet, it was even more evident. Maybe he was protecting something? Or someone? Did the man that Neal was seeing know anything about the treasure? He waved the thought away for the moment. That's what got them into this mess.

He had to apologize, and work on the trust of his partner. Maybe then, Neal would tell him the truth openly. He was pulled from his thoughts when the young conman himself knocked politely on the door before entering, but not sitting in his usual chair in front of Peter. In fact, Neal wasn't sitting at all; he leaned against the wall, looking totally at ease to any passerby, but giving off a painfully uncomfortable, apprehensive vibe. He did not want to be there.

"Sit down, Neal. I'm not going to interrogate you." Peter said, clearing his throat awkwardly as Neal gingerly took a seat and didn't meet Peter's gaze. He wanted Neal to look at him, he needed his eye contact, even if he was screaming at him. Uneasy guilt spread through his entire body. He sighed, desperate for his friend to look at him again.

"I'm sorry, Neal. For last night. It wasn't any of my business... I was just so sure it was you, and I found out more that I bargained for. I didn't know how to handle it. I invaded your privacy, and I'm sorry." He stopped, trying to gauge the reaction. Neal still wasn't looking at him. "Neal?" Slowly, Neal's eyes came up to look at him. Peter was shocked to see the tears brimming the blue. His friend took a shaky breath.

"Thank you, Peter. I can't trust you again quite yet, but thank you." He gave a watery smile before wiping the tears and getting up to leave. He was almost out the door when Peter stopped him.

"Neal, wait. Can El and I make it up to you? Dinner tonight? I know it's a bit of deja vu, but El was so worried about you. You can even bring your... um 'friend', if you want to..."

Neal processed the invitation for a minute, Peter waiting with baited breath. A wide smile graced the conman's face and he nodded.

Neal grinned to himself as he ordered his and Diana's coffees, getting a small table by the window. He was far from the trust he used to have in Peter, but just to know he was trying, that he still cared, was so nice that Neal almost forgot about the nightmare and the night before. It was such a relief to be able to talk to his partner without getting suspicious glares and interrogated about the treasure he had nothing to do with. All Neal had to do was keep Peter out of his past, and he'd be fine.

"_Maybe this isn't so bad_," he thought as Diana slid into the chair opposite him, thanking him for the coffee and settling in with some small talk before getting to what was wrong that morning. Reluctantly, but with a surprising lack of gaps and bent truths, Neal told her everything about the the dinner.

"Why were you kissing that man, Neal? Are you actually together? You should've told us; Peter's a really accepting and the FBI doesn't really care who you love. We're your friends, you can tell us. If you're gay, we'll support you."

"I know, I know, but I'm not gay. I like women, but I guess I'm bi or pan-sexual or something? I guess I just wasn't ready to tell people. I don't really have a choice now." He looked uncomfortable, toying with the lid of his coffee cup. Diana had never seen her friend so reserved.

"Are- Are you two 'together'? Or... who is this guy?" She felt her heart expand when Neal did a complete 180 and smiled, that spark igniting in his eyes.

"Yeah, we have been for a while..." Almost four years, non-consecutively. It had been so hard at first, with all Neal had been through, but Aaron stood by him. He smiled to himself as the memories flashed in his mind. He was pulled out of his reverie when Diana cleared her throat, urging him to talk.

"Oh, come on! You know you want to gush about him! What's he like? Is he handsome? I need to make sure he's good to you!" She prompted him, and, just as she expected, he caved.

"Fine, I'll tell you; His name is Aaron Hudson, he's two years older than me, and we met at the hospital when Peter and I got checked over after the Andrews case. He's a doctor. He's so sweet and understanding, Diana. He is the only person who knows absolutely everything about me."

Diana was speechless. Neal was beaming at her with the sun shining out of every pore. She had never seen him so happy.

"Well, Mr. Caffrey, I better get to meet this Dr. Hudson soon. I need to make sure he's taking care of you." She said, winking and smiling coyly. Neal laughed sweetly.

"Oh, he is, so very well." They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Diana launched them back into conversation, asking about his looks, his personality, his house, and intelligence. After about two hours, Neal was laughing and talking like that morning had never happened.


End file.
